


Honey, Honey

by kindslytherin



Series: KS's Stardew Valley Collection [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Beekeeping, Childhood Friends, Choose the Couple, Comfort/Angst, Coming Out, Honey, Hopeless Romantic, M/M, New Flame, Returning Home, Slow Burn, Tags Subject to Change, choose the ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26257465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindslytherin/pseuds/kindslytherin
Summary: Having spent most of his childhood and teen summers on his grandparents’ farm, Laurence Oliver grew up around the loving and pure relationship between his grandfather and grandmother. It isn't surprising that he's come to envision a similar marriage for himself. Now, several years later, Lo has taken ownership of the farm and plans to remain as loyal to its past as possible, while trying to establish a future for himself. Though his main focus will be caring for his grandmother and tending to the farm, he can't help but to wonder if maybe moving to Pelican Town permanently was an act of fate. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll stumble into love while he’s there.
Relationships: Alex & Male Player (Stardew Valley), Alex (Stardew Valley)/Original Male Character(s), Elliott & Male Player (Stardew Valley), Elliott (Stardew Valley)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: KS's Stardew Valley Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027624
Comments: 18
Kudos: 28





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please bear with me with update speed! I'm a full-time student with two work-study jobs. But I'm doing my best. Let me know what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prologue revised and edited: 12/2/2020

**prologue**

Honey is a beautiful word. When Laurence Oliver thinks about honey, his mind drifts to warm, early summer mornings spent at his grandparents’ farm. Similar to the term, the farm was also beautiful. The neat rows of colorful crops are sectioned off with fencing and crystal-like pathing (little Lo often liked to giggle at his distorted reflection within the shimmering stones). The light, sweet-smelling breeze would tug at his dark, unruly hair, which had originally been neatly combed back by his grandmother but was promptly tussled the moment he ran outside. There was a consistent buzzing of bees in their hives that were strategically yet lovingly around the freshly bloomed flowers. Lo would have arrived at the farm the Friday following his last day of school, the few days prior being spent cleaning his room and deciding what he wanted to bring along with him. He always had his two, child-sized suitcases and his favorite backpack, which was a glittering blizzard blue. Without fail, every other day at noon, a now nostalgic scent would waft towards young Lo from the open kitchen window: his grandmother’s famous honey pie – at least, famous amongst those living in Pelican Town (it’s a big hit at the annual Luau!). Once he got a bit older, around age thirteen, he would dutifully stay by her side as she walked him through the steps of how to create the most delectable pie. _Delectable_ – “there is no such thing as a perfect pie” she often told him. He acquired an extensive vocabulary thanks to her, though he did have to learn that _delectable_ was not always an acceptable replacement for _perfect_. You don’t earn a delectable score on a spelling test.

Back to the word honey. One reason for its significance to Laurence Oliver is its being what his grandparents were known for: raising bees whose honey was reminiscent of the extraordinary flowers that were grown around the various hives. The story behind their focus on flowers and honey rather than other, more profitable and perhaps obvious crops was simple: Melissa’s husband loved her. While yes, there were other crops grown for the purpose of profit to keep the farm afloat, the most meticulous care went into the flower gardens. Being her favorite, the fairy rose was always in abundance during the Fall season. While her husband tended to the soil, she had taken up beekeeping. She had a love for every living being she met but found herself to be especially fond of honeybees. She raised them with love, collected their honey, and turned that honey into gifts, both product and food, for her friends throughout the town. Yet, while the honey was shared amongst others, the flowers were intended for her and her only. Rough hands wound some into bouquets, but most remained in the gardens to be admired.

But the most important reason for loving the word honey was because it was bestowed upon Melissa as an endearing moniker from her husband; Lo grew up hearing it. The tone in Alan’s voice as he’d call for his Honey, the look in Melissa’s eyes when she’d turn towards him expectantly, the warm smile they would share. Their relationship was and still is idolized in Lo’s mind (of course, they kept the normal, marital spats away from the child). He spent many, many summers on the farm – he could tell how much the two loved one another. Lo envisioned a similar future for himself. He hoped to have someone to plant flowers for, to bake pies with, to laugh at the way the tiny feet of bees tickled when they landed on bare knees and arms and hands and, if lucky, noses. Someone who would don a floral crown of his own careful design to the traditional dance held in the Spring. He wanted a Honey, and he can’t help but to have a small inkling of hope that maybe, just maybe he’ll find them after moving into the familiar farmhouse.


	2. chapter one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter one revised and edited: 12/2/2020
> 
> Update 9.21.2020 - Hi! I've had a long week school-wise and haven't been able to upload chapter two on time. But I am working on it!
> 
> My idea strayed slightly from the prologue, specifically where it mentioned how Lo hoped to find someone in Pelican Town to settle down with. That doesn't fit well with the fact that he chose to move away for at least four years without a bit of explanation: "People change", as Melissa mentions in the first chapter. Lo's original plans changed as he made memories outside of the farm (which will be delved into later!). Sorry if there is any confusion in the flow from the prologue to chapter one.

**chapter one**

Laurence Oliver, preferably called Lo, stares somberly at the crinkled paper in his dark-skinned hands. **_Alan Matthew Sandifer_** , the bolded letters across the top read: his grandfather’s obituary, read several times over the duration of the trip, is returned to a grey leather wallet. A pair of eyes nearly the color of periwinkle search for a much-needed distraction through the dirt-speckled window of the bus. They watch as trees sweep past, onto the occasional sun-drenched clearing that cause them to squint against the light. The bus abruptly sinks into the darkness of a long tunnel and once emerged on the other side, Lo is met with a wooden sign whose fading colors shout: **_“Welcome to Pelican Town!”_** He smiles a smile that slowly morphs into a guilty frown. Years ago, he had decided to move several states away for college, explaining that he _“needed to experience something new, something different”_ , which he believed could only be achieved by going off on his own. He called his grandparents almost daily and visited for holidays, but he no longer spent his summers on the farm he had once loved so much. Instead, he was working, spending time with his friends, going on dates in search of “the one” (which he never found), and sometimes traveling (though not very far on his college student budget).

He had visited the summer before his first semester. His quickly aging grandfather was more than happy to have Lo help him tend to the crops and flowers, care for the animals, and sometimes work alongside the bees. Truth be told, the young man takes more after his grandmother in the ways of the farm: he has a passion for baking and design and loves the bees. He did enjoy the hard labor that came with helping his grandfather, and he wishes he had relished it more, but it wasn’t his first choice. He often thinks of how great it would be if he could go back and spend a little extra time with him, even if it meant doing those more tedious jobs. _If only…_ He shakes his head. His recently dyed, dark blue locks tumble even more out of place than they already were after he’d repeatedly ran his hand through them. In times like these, he has a habit of getting stuck on the negative, the shameful memories, when he knows he should be focusing on the positives. He takes a breath and closes his eyes, thinking back to that last summer. He vividly remembers how his grandmother often chose to rest on the porch as he and his grandfather worked in the flower garden. Melissa would be donning her straw hat, cup of honey tea clasped in her shaky hands, seated out of direct sunlight. Alan would push himself to his feet with groan as his old bones creaked. He’d hand her the flower that he had decided was the best. Just for her. That summer was full of laughter, sore arms and legs, home-cooked meals, the occasional bee sting, and honey pie.

Lo’s eyes flutter open. He releases the breath he had been holding. The bus had since come to a complete stop and the door was already swung open. Glancing through the window, he can see his grandmother from where he sits.

✽✽✽✽✽

“Are you sure you don’t want to go greet him?”

Her voice is borderline pleading. She almost sounds…disappointed. Disappointed that he hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to say hello, to go and rekindle the friendship he cherished so greatly while growing up. Disappointed that he wasn’t overcome with excitement when he learned a few days prior that he was planning to return. Simply disappointed.

“People grow apart, Granny. Lo and I haven’t really talked in years.”

The well-built brunet shovels a forkful of scrambled eggs between his lips, only closing his mouth to chew when he noticed the disapproving look being sent his way. Evelyn sighs and carefully lowers herself into the cushioned chair across from him. The atmosphere of the kitchen is warm, inviting, and often smells of freshly baked cookies – but at this moment, that homely feeling is ever so slightly tainted by the tension between the two figures seated at the dining table.

“But you had been so close once. You even called him Lo just now.” She gives her grandson a hopeful smile. It earns a snort.

"What, do you expect me to call him Laurence Oliver? Please. That’s so pre…per…” he fumbles for the correct word (which is the only time he fumbles, he would like to add, as he never fumbles in a game of gridball). His tanned face slowly warms as he realizes that he can’t recall the word he’s trying to say. He spits a simpler synonym. “Snooty.” He then scrunches his nose and purses his lips, his voice raising to create and intentionally obnoxious tone with some sort of accent tossed in. “Yes, may I play speak to _Mister Laurence Oliver Sandifer_?”

“Alex. Be nice.”

The man rolls his eyes and takes a large bite out of a piece of butter-soaked toast. He manages to get some of that butter on the tip of his nose. “He’s not here, it’s not as if he knows what I’m saying.”

“That doesn’t mean you should say it. If you’re not careful with how you speak in private, you may slip up and say something you’re not able to take back.” She sips from her cup of warm tea. Alex rolls his eyes, which gets him another stern look. “I still think you should at least welcome him back. He’ll be here for a while, so you can’t avoid him forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him.”

Evelyn shrugs and spoons some grits from a bowl trimmed with delicate artwork of flowers. “Could have fooled me.”

There’s a minute pause. He speaks mid-bite. “Why would I want to avoid him?”

“That’s what I’m wondering.” She lowers her spoon to the bowl to fill it again. “He could be hurt if you don’t say hello. I’m sure he’s elated to see you again.” She suddenly gasps; Alex jumps at the sound. “They should come to supper tonight. Lo and Melissa both.”

"Alright.” He bites back a sigh. He isn’t sure why he’s so hesitant to see Lo again – it would be great to have another friend in town. Sure, he gets along fine with Sam and great with Haley, but the others around his age aren’t as interested _or_ interesting. But he isn’t _avoiding_ him…is he? Evelyn’s voice brings him back.

“And you should be the one to invite them.”

“But-”

“No buts. It’s the kind thing to do.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

"Because I’ve told you to.” There’s a sweet and satisfied smile on her face. When Alex doesn’t smile back, her shoulders droop. “Please?”

He doesn’t like seeing his grandmother upset for any reason. So he caves. “Fine, but only if I get to pick what we eat.”

That visible satisfaction returns. She nods. “Which will be?”

He leans back in his seat with a thoughtful look upon his face. His plate is empty at this point. “Baked fish and parsnip soup.” A brief moment passes before he adds: “And cookies.” He then stands and collects his plate, silverware, and glass. He places them gently into the sink.

Gradually, she slips into a small smirk. “How specific.”

“Not really.” Alex shrugs. When he turns to leave, he makes sure not to look directly at her. He knows what kind of expression she has on her face. He can hear it in her voice.

✽✽✽✽✽

“Ooh, oh! It’s so good to finally see you again, my precious, precious boy! Come give your grandma a hug, come on now.” She pushes herself from her wheelchair to envelope Lo in a tight hug. Melissa is a tiny, old, African American woman who really doesn’t need a wheelchair, as she’s argued plenty of times before, she just gets tired sometimes and likes to have a place to sit nearby. Which is partially true, but she’s also simply gotten weaker over the years. Months. At this point, she worsens with every passing week, her issues having started mid-December (it’s the third of January now). She does her best to hide it.

“I missed you.” Lo happily accepts this short-lived embrace. It would have lasted longer if Melissa hadn’t pulled away to jab him in the arm.

"Then you should have visited more,” she huffs. She has a serious gleam in her eyes that fades the moment she picks up on the guilt riddled in her grandson’s expression. She quickly slips into an easy smile. “But that’s alright. You’re here now and that’s what matters. And what a pretty shade of blue your hair is!” She ruffles his hair with a bony hand.

The guilt seemingly vanishes upon hearing these reassuring words (along with a quiet giggle at the ruffling). Lo gives another loving smile to her before turning his attention to the two people who accompanied her t the bus stop. The older and slightly taller of the pair is a man that lo recognized immediately as the mayor of the small town. Lewis watched Lo grow up and was a close friend of Alan. He’s like an uncle to him. While he isn’t surprised to see him, he _is_ a bit shocked at how young he looks compared to his grandmother. But he doesn’t have a chance to think much on it, because Lewis has clasped his hand in a firm grip.

“Hi there, Laurence Oliver. Welcome back to Pelican Town.” He drops his hand. There’s a pleasant look on his face. “I hope you’re trip went smoothly.”

“Ah, yeah! It did, thank you.” His smile is forced this time (not that it’s noticeable). He can’t help but to wonder if Lewis blames him for not visiting as often as he sed to. Lo would understand if that were the case, of course. He would, and does, blame himself as well.

Lewis motions to the red-haired woman standing beside him. “I’m sure you remember Robin.”

"Of course he does. He and Alan would grab supplied at my shop every Friday morning.” Robin offers a grin of her own as she extends a calloused hand to Lo, regardless of already knowing him. “But it’s nice to meet you again. You’re all grown up now.”

“And what a handsome man he’s become!” Melissa reaches up with both hands to pinch his cheeks until their become hot with embarrassment. Lo releases Robin’s hand to try and pry his grandmother’s grip from his face.

“Grandma…”

“Oh, the ladies in town will be fighting over you, I can see it now.” This earns an awkward laugh, which is interpreted as him merely being flustered. She returns to her wheelchair with a groan. “Let’s go to the house. Lunch should be about done now.”

"Let me, Mel.” Lewis rounds the chair and takes hold of it from the back. “Laurence Oliver has his bags to carry, and if I’m honest, I don’t think I’d be able to carry them very far myself.” He sends a bemused, apologetic smile to Lo, who waves it off with a chuckle. Lewis begins pushing Melissa towards the path leading to both the farm (on their right, when facing away from the bus stop) and the town (to their left).

Robin grabs one of Lo’s three bags and leans close to him to whisper, “I visited Melissa earlier today with Lewis, and I need to warn you that the house is in need of some…repairs. You know where I am if you need me.”

He’s aware that this offer is a mix of genuine kindness and an attempt at finding business. He assumes that there aren’t many projects to be done in such a small town with as tiny a population as it has. Lo gives a nod. “I will, thank you.”

“Mm.” She glances to Melissa and Lewis, who are several yards ahead of them at this point, to make sure that she hadn’t been overheard. Melissa Sandifer is a proud woman who doesn’t take kindly to being told that she, or her house, needs help. Luckily for Robin, she wasn’t in earshot when she spoke.

✽✽✽✽✽

Lewis and Robin both stayed for lunch, and it was nice. Lo is settling in quicker than he anticipated – he thought maybe he would be overwhelmed, perhaps homesick (…school sick?), or reluctant in some way. Instead, he fell back into step rather easily. He had left his bags in the old nursery, a room that had undergone various transformations as he aged but was now dusty and rickety and still referred to as “the nursery”. He paid the state of the room no mind, however, and decided that it was a task for another day. He spent an hour watching television with Melissa before she eventually dozed off. After cloaking her in a warm blanket and lowering the volume of the TV, he grabbed a fabric grocery bag and a notepad and pen and set off into the bright afternoon.

“Hello, Pierre.” Lo can’t help but beam when he steps into the locally owned general store. Crates of produce are to his right and three shelves of various packaged goods are to his left. He scans the nearest shelf for a moment, spots a blue bag of sugar, and grabs it. His joyful expression is damply mirrored in the face of the light-haired brunet stationed behind the sales counter. He approaches him and places the sugar onto the smooth surface between them. “Grandma is nearly out of sugar, so I thought I’d come pick some up for her.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Welcome back.” He scans the barcode, presses a few buttons on the register, and accepts the cash that he’s offered. While returning Lo’s change, his smile brightens just a tad. “Everyone has been talking about you. The new farmer.”

“Have they?” He tucks the sugar into the bag and money into his wallet. “Everyone knows me already, don’t they?”

“Not everyone. We’ve had some newcomers in the past few years. Elliott and Leah are the most recent. You may have already met Shane, since he’s been here for a little while now.”

“Well, I _tried_ to meet Shane, but he didn’t seem to like me very much. I’m glad to hear that there are new people, though.” There’s a small spark in his belly. New people. People he had yet to establish a relationship with. Of course, his mind wanders to potential romantic endeavors, but he doesn’t let his thoughts stray too far for too long. He hasn’t even met him yet. Them. He hasn’t met _them_ yet – plural.

“I’m sure you’ll see them around before long.”

With a nod and a wave, Lo exits the shop and turns to his left. A strong sense of warmth washes over him – 1 River Road. He spent much of his time there over plenty of summers. It was like a third home to him. With a bounce in his step, he nears the blue house and knocks on the door, thought he felt the urge to walk in uninvited as he had done so many times before. There’s a short pause before the door slowly opens.

“Granny!”

"Lo, you’ve gotten so tall! I can hardly reach you now.” Evelyn, donning a pretty pink blouse and khaki pants, stretches her arms to invite him into a hug. He wraps his arms around her small frame and nearly lifts her from the ground.

“I’m so glad to see you. You look as great as ever.” His smile is wide when he pulls away. Evelyn cheerfully smacks his arm, giggling about him being a flattered, before stepping aside to make room for him to step in. “George is taking a nap, but Alex is in his room if you’d like to say hello.”

There’s yet another beat of silence, though much shorter for the first. His smile doesn’t waver, but he has a _feeling_ in his stomach again. He can’t pinpoint exactly what it is. “How’s Alex doing?”

"Go ask him yourself, dear.” She pats his arm and disappears into the kitchen. Lo stares after her for a moment before setting his bag to the side and making his way down the only hallway in the house. Directly across is Alex’s closed bedroom door. He knocks once.

“Gimme a sec.”

Lo can hear something heavy being placed on the floor and then shuffling. He has to look up at the figure who opens the door. His eyes are green, his skin is tan from house spent outside, and his hair is intentionally disheveled. He’s rolling down the hem of a shirt he presumably has just thrown on.

“You dyed your hair.”

Lo finds it difficult to speak for about half a second. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“It’s…” Lo shakes his head and lets out a small laugh. “You know, I’d hug you if you werent covered in sweat.”

Alex cracks a smile (is that a hint of smugness?) and motions behind him with his thumb. “I was working out. Gotta keep to my schedule, ya know?”

Lo nods as he glances into the bedroom. A soft, nostalgic smile appears on his face. He remembers the day that George and Evelyn put the football wallpaper up in the bedroom for Alex, very shortly after his parents had passed and he’d come to live in Pelican Town. The smile fades.

“Speaking of schedule, I kinda need to get back in there so I don’t lose too much time. If you don’t mind.” He nods again and steps back, a kind of vague farewell, and starts to close the door. Just before it slides back into its frame, he pulls it open again. “Oh, by the way, Granny wanted me to invite you to dinner tonight.”

The disappointment of Alex retreating to his room so quickly fades. He grins. “How sweet. What will it be?”

“Uh…” Alex narrows his eyes, puckers his lips, and looks to the ceiling. “Ya know, I can’t remember. Sorry bro, try asking Granny.”

“Right. See you later, Alex.”

The door clicks into place. Lo remains there for a short while, his eyes glued to the door as his mind wanders again. The disappointment is back, its absence was short-lived. Nonetheless, he holds his head high as he turns back down the hall. He doesn’t realize that Evelyn had been watching from around the corner and he’s too distracted with his thoughts to notice her slipping back into the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. I finally finished the first chapter. I'm planning to have every chapter be at least 3k words long and to have a chapter finished by every Friday. We'll see how that goes!


	3. author's note

Hi! I had every intention to upload this consistently, but I have a LOT to do school wise. I have about a third of the next chapter written, but I've just not had much time to write. I want to keep every chapter at about 3k words (especially if it's taking me this long to finish them...). What I'm going to do starting tomorrow, or maybe tonight, is give myself a minimum to type every day so I stay on track.

Just wanted to give that update! I absolutely LOVE Lo and Alex, but also Elliott, and I'm excited to see where it all goes from here (even as the author!).


	4. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two revised and edited: 12/3/2020
> 
> I originally uploaded this at 4AM because I was excited to post it, but I ended up deleting it so that I could edit it better. And I'm glad I did, because there were quite a few mistakes!
> 
> Enjoy!

**chapter two**

Lo had stuck around the Mullner residence for a little while longer than originally planned. It was partially to catch up with Evelyn, but also in hopes that Alex would quickly finish his workout and have time to chat. He soon felt as though he had loitered long enough, and that perhaps Alex was intentionally not leaving his room, so he took his grocery bag and hooked it onto his shoulder. His first stop is the beach.

 _It’s so clean_ is the first thing he notices when he crosses the stone bridge and his feet meet the sand. There are a few piles of wood here and there, back up against the trees, but he doesn’t immediately spot any trash (he does wonder about the two towels resting on the sand – is someone planning to come back and claim them or are they a permanent part of the beach décor?). He shifts his bag, kneels, and snatches a pretty, blue shell from where it was just barely poking out of the sand. After dusting it with his fingers, he slides it into the bag. As he searches around his feet for more shells, a hearty laugh sounding from the docks catches his attention, while the figure standing there with their head thrown back in a more refined sort of laughter catches his eye. Due to the ginger hair cascading down their back in soft waves, Lo jumps to the conclusion that this is Leah. With a grin and a pep in his step, he makes his way in their direction.

“Hi! I’m Laurence Oliver, the sort-of-new farmer. You must be, ah-” He very nearly said Leah, and he would have regretted it as soon as the name left his lips, because this was likely not Leah. The figure before him has a handsome face that’s framed perfectly – _delectably? No, don’t start this, I don’t need to get all flustered_ – by his well-kept hair, the color of which compliments his green eyes. He extends a hand. Lo mentally chastises himself for assuming things he knows he shouldn’t have.

“Elliott. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Laurence Oliver.”

Lo’s gaze doesn’t break from Elliott’s face as he accepts the friendly gesture. There’s a slight hesitation in his voice that he hopes isn’t noticeable. He aims to say, _‘It’s nice to meet you, too’_ , but what comes out is: “You are very pretty.” And then there’s a pause as Lo goes through the process of being confused, realizing what he’d said, and feeling the sheer embarrassment set in. Elliott does not seem to notice any of this internal turmoil.

“Why, thank you!” Beaming brightly, he allows his grip to linger on Lo’s hand just long enough to be intentional before he lets go. Lo knows what he’s doing, and he knows that Elliott knows what he’s doing, but the well-dressed man (man?) isn’t flustered in the slightest. “Laurence Oliver…what a beautiful name. It fits you rather well, I’d say. When did you arrive in town?”

That was a compliment, right? That comment about his name fitting him? Are they going to just gloss over it, or…? “Uhm…today. I think. Yesterday?” A beat. “No. Today, just a few hours ago, actually. It’s…It’s been a long day. If you, uh, don’t mind me asking, what are your pronouns?” He’s flustered, more so than he’d like to be for a first meeting. Maybe it was just the possible relationship ideas he had been thinking over after learning that there were two people he’d yet to meet. Yeah, maybe that’s it. Or perhaps Elliott’s charm is just attractive to him. Yeah. It could also be that.

“He/him pronouns, and I don’t mind you asking at all, I appreciate it in fact. And your pronouns?” He slips his hands into his pockets. Lo swears that his smile softened even more at the question.

“Also he/him.” He exhales. He feels somewhat calmer now.

The smile remains. He nods at the bag Lo carries. “Are you here to see Willy for some fishing gear?”

Lo glances to the bag before shaking his head. “Not today.” He hasn’t forgotten the old fisherman. His grandmother informed him that he had just returned from a fishing trip a few days before he arrived himself. If he hadn’t already have plans to explore, he would ask him about how his trip went, but since he knows how long-winded his stories can be, it’s best to leave it for another day. “I’m just checking out the town and seeing how much it’s changed since I was last here. That, and collecting shells.”

“May I see what you’ve discovered so far? I love picking up shells as I stroll along the shore.” Lo nods and retrieves the single blue clam shell that he found a short while ago, stating, _‘It’s just the one’_ , but Elliott grins. “It’s lovely.”

“You should keep it.” He practically blurts this. He continues, trying to sound less awkward this time, though he saw the amused gleam in the other’s eyes. “Consider it a _‘nice to meet you’_ gift.”

As Elliott takes the offered shell, his fingers lightly graze against Lo’s – again, entirely intentionally. “Ah! How kind. I’ll be sure to return the favor soon.”

He was about to contest that such a thing isn’t necessary, but it was clear how happy the concept made him, so he refrains. “If you want to, sure.” Elliott’s smile grows.

“Wonderful. We’ll need to spend some more time together then, so I can find out your interests. Of course, I could just ask, but that’s not as fun, wouldn’t you agree?” With careful fingers, Elliott slips the clam shell into his shirt pocket. He doesn’t wait for a response. “How about dinner?”

 _Such a smooth transition…_ Lo falters, stumbling once again for words. “I’ve already made plans with an old friend, but are you free tomorrow?”

“I am now, yes.” As he says this, the watches strapped to his wrist emits a beeping noise, and he clicks a button to dismiss it. “That’s my reminder to write. And what perfect timing it was, for Laurence Oliver, I believe you have given me the inspiration I was needing. I’m not sure exactly what it is yet, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” With a tiny bow, he turns to leave. He gestures up and to the right. “I live in the little cottage near the path to town. Feel free to stop by whenever you please. I bid you adieu.” Breaking away from his romance-novel-esque character, he gives his head a slight tilt and offers a cheerful wave before walking away.

“It was nice to meet you, Elliott!”

“Likewise.”

He watches him leave whilst trying not to make it too obvious. He lets out a breath once he could no longer see him. After a moment’s thought, he decides that he will visit Willy after all. A fishing story is just the distraction he needs. Something different to think about for a while. The now shell-less Lo spins on his heel and approaches the angler’s shop.

✽✽✽✽✽

“Hello dear, did you have a nice day so far?”

Lo closes the farmhouse door behind him. He gently places his grocery bag of foragables and other items, along with the sugar, onto a clear section of the counter that wasn’t occupied by his grandmother’s baking supplies. “I did. I went to visit the Mullner’s, met Elliott at the beach, and listened to Willy’s newest fishing story. Oh! We’ve been invited to dinner tonight.”

“Dinner? With the Mullner’s or with Elliott? Or Willy?” Melissa, standing rather than sitting in her wheelchair (she can walk, but just gets tired sometimes, remember?), is plundering through her pantry in search of what Lo assumes is more ingredients. From the look of what she already had out on the counter, she was only missing…ah! Lo gets her attention to pass her the sugar, at which she nods her thanks.

“The Mullner’s. I’m having dinner with Elliott tomorrow, though. You know, I almost called him Leah before he turned around and I realized he wasn’t a woman.” He begins emptying the rest of the bag, sorting between salmonberries, various shells, and other things he’d discovered beneath thin layers of dirt around town. There’s also some trash he intends to sort through and toss out. “It’s my bad, though, I know not to assume that sort of thing. I asked his preferred pronouns and he was happy about it, so that’s pretty cool.”

“Oh, certainly. And I’m sure he would have understood if you misnamed him. His and Leah’s hair is similar. Color and length, except Leah usually wears hers in a braid.” She tilts her head and hums. “And they both often wear green…I wonder if they coordinate it.”

“Ooh, are they dating?” He has to ask.

“No, no. Leah is a lesbian. But they are close friends.” Her humming continues. Lo can hear her smirk through her voice, even though he can’t see it since her back is to him. “Why do you ask?”

Lo fights the automatic _‘um…’_ that rises in his throat. There’s no sense in lying, but there’s also no reason to act nervous over answering…that would only make the inevitable teasing that much worse. “I want to know what to expect since we’re having dinner tomorrow.” He had been hoping to avoid questions like this and tried to get around it when he changed the subject to his almost-mistake, but now there was no avoiding it. Melissa isn’t the type to let go of these things so easily.

“Ah, okay. He’s a sweetheart. He always helps me carry my groceries whenever he sees me at Pierre’s.”

“He seems very kind.” And flattering. Very flattering.

“Mhm.” She nods. “So, dinner with Elliott after only meeting him once?”

He shifts uncomfortably under her stare when she turns towards him. Though, she does seem more surprised than judgmental (not that she’s a judgy person). “Yeah. He said he wants to get to know me better so he can give me a gift he’ll know I’ll like. ‘Cause I gave him a shell I found as a way to say it was nice to meet him. He was talking about how he likes to collect shells, so I thought it was fitting.” He moves his weight from one leg to the other. “Is that weird?”

Melissa chuckles. The wrinkles on her forehead become more noticeable. “Not if he’s offering to get you something in return. Like I said, he’s a sweetheart. But he’s usually more reserved, so you must have made quite the impression.”

“Is he? Huh.” His face warms again. Either way, the knowledge makes him feel warm inside. He wonders what it was about him that made Elliott more open towards him – does calling him pretty equate to _‘quite the impression?’_

“Is dinner here or at his place?”

“I’m not sure, actually. He invited me so I assume his place.” He looks at the small pile of trash and starts to separate between what can be recycled and what would have to be thrown out (unfortunately, most would have to be tossed into the trash rather than the dusty blue bin on the porch).

“You should make a pie, Lo. I think he’d like that. And it’ll show that you know your way around the kitchen.” Groaning, she kneels behind the island counter to grab something from within the lower sets of cabinets. She pops back up, slowly, with a thin metal sheet. Ah, she’s likely making cookies.

Lo blinks. His professionally shaped eyebrows raise. “Why does that matter?”

Melissa smiles again. Lo sighs.

“Grandma…”

“What?” She lengthens the vowel syllable in the word. Her tone sounds as if she’s been accused of something – which she has – but with obvious hints of amusement.

“You know what.”

“I think knowing how to cook and bake is something to brag about, that’s all.” She places the metal sheet to the side and slides her mixing bowl in front of her. She’d already laid out the eggs and flour, and with the new addition of sugar, Lo can make a safe guess that she’s making sugar cookies. They’ll probably bring some to the Mullner’s.

“No, you’re implying that in a marriage way. That he’ll have more interest in me if he knows that I can cook and stuff.” He rounds the island to grab a colander from one of the higher cabinets against the wall, on the left side of the window over the sink. He gathers the pink berries into the hole-punched bowl and places it beneath the faucet. He’s rinsing away any dirt.

“He seems to already have an interest in you, Lo.” Her smile is so sweet but oh so mocking. “But what about Alex?”

“Dinner with the Mullner’s is tonight, I’m going to Elliott’s tomorrow.” He rubs the berries between his fingers. His nails are clearly well taken care of. He frowns as he thinks of all the dirty work ahead of him.

“I know that, I’m talking about your crush on him.”

He halts. “Ha! You’re funny. Alex didn’t even act like he wanted to talk to me when I went to visit.” He places the freshly picked and cleaned berries into a Ziploc bad that’s promptly sealed.

“Evelyn called me after you left and said that you waited to see if Alex would leave his room.” She’s very blunt.

He’s grateful that he isn’t facing her, otherwise she would have seen that his eyes had gone wide. “I did no such thing.” Partially a lie, but he did truly want to spend time with Evelyn as well.

“If you say so, dear. But if you do still have feelings for him, then be careful not to get involved with both of them at once. It won’t be good for anyone.”

His mouth is opening and closing as he struggles to speak. “I…I just got here! And I don’t have feelings for eith-” He pauses abruptly. “What do you mean by _‘still’_?”

“Oh, you had a huge crush on Alex when you were both younger, don’t try to tell me that you didn’t.” She waves her hand dismissively at him before cracking two eggs into a smaller mixing bowl, whisking them together with the other liquid ingredients.

“And how do you know that?” He places the salmonberries into the freezer.

“Now, I don’t want to embarrass you _that_ much, dear…but it had something to do with the barn, and a bale of hay.” Her smile is _knowing_. Much too knowing for Lo’s liking. He goes quiet. After closing the freezer, he proceeds to clean his portion of the counter.

“Ah.”

“So you know what I’m talking about.”

“Absolutely no idea but I don’t want to ask.” He moves back to the sink to wash his hands.

“You do know. Otherwise, you’d ask.”

“Grandma.”

“Oh, look at the time! Lo, would you gather some wood for the fireplace? We’re almost out. The axe is where it always is.” She wipes her hands on a tattered rag before handing it to him to do the same. She then ushers him towards the door. “And don’t be too long, we don’t want to be late for dinner.”

A mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and frustration, Lo allows himself to be kicked out of his new home. He grabs the axe from its dedicated spot near the empty wood box and descends the few steps of the porch. The axe is heavier than he remembers.

✽✽✽✽✽

He should have known. The seating arrangements at the Mullner’s house have been the same for years. Of _course_ his chair is next to Alex’s – why wouldn’t it be? That’s how it’s been since they were children. Lo doesn’t mind sitting by Alex. He just feels…awkward, is all. The earlier conversation with Melissa is still circling through his mind and, knowing how he can be, he’s concerned that it’ll affect how he acts around his former friend until the thoughts pass. Shaking his head ever so lightly, so it doesn’t draw any attention, he looks over the food choices (he had forgotten to ask Evelyn earlier what they would be having, so this was a surprise to him). Once he sees that baked fish with a side of parsnip soup had been prepared, he knew that he was in for a nice helping of taunting from his grandmother later.

“It’s your favorite, Lo.” Melissa watches as Evelyn places the plate of fish onto the center of the table next to the serving bowl of soup. As she remarks that it was Alex’s idea, both young men avoid looking at their respective grandparents. The two older ladies both have signature, snicker-y _looks_ : Evelyn raises her eyebrows whilst Melissa smirks. Lo takes a sip from his glass of soda and glances towards Alex. The gridball fanatic shrugs his shoulders and stirs the soup he had already spooned into his bowl.

“Yeah.”

“It’s Lo’s favorite.” Melissa beams, repeating herself. She loves this.

Alex gives a single nod. “Yeah.”

“Isn’t it so sweet that he remembers Lo’s favorite foods?” Evelyn exchanges a look with Melissa, who nods enthusiastically, agreeing with a _‘very sweet of him’_.

This behavior doesn’t seem to faze Alex. He just shrugs again. “No big deal.”

“Can we eat before tomorrow?” George grumbles. His wife takes her seat near him. The seating arrangement is as follows: George is at the head of the table with his back to the window; Evelyn is sitting closest to his left hand; next to her is Melissa; across from Melissa is Lo; and next to Lo is Alex, who is across from his own grandmother.

“Of course, George, I’ll say grace.”

Evelyn offers a hand to George and Melissa, who extend their hands to those nearest them. Alex, accustomed to saying grace before every meal since his grandfather (and thus, his grandmother) converted, holds a hand to Lo, who takes it after a second of hesitation. He holds on lightly but is aware of everything: how Alex’s skin was rough but not _too_ rough, slightly sweaty (or was that from Lo’s hand?), warm…

“Lo?”

“Uh-huh?” Looking up, he sees that everyone in the room is gazing at him in what appears to be confusion and perhaps concern. That’s when it dawns on him that he’s still grasping onto Alex’s hand (and Melissa’s) – he could _feel_ the judgement radiation from his old friend. At least, he thought he could, but the man’s confused expression says otherwise (his cheeks were dusted pink, though). Lo rips both of his hands away. “I was saying an extra prayer.”

“That’s quite alright, dear.” Melissa gives an approving nod but a sneaky smirk. His face is burning but he doesn’t think it’s very noticeable.

“What were you praying for?” Alex speaks as he slices a piece of fish with his fork. There’s another moment’s hesitation as Lo tries to come up with something, but Evelyn comes to his rescue, albeit accidentally.

“Alex, that may be private.”

“Sorry.” He pulls the fish from the utensil with his teeth (very white, might it be noted).

“I don’t mind. I was saying thanks because I got here safely.” Lo turns his attention to his own food. He isn’t a very religious person, but he knows that the Mullner’s (George and Evelyn, that is) appreciate his effort. Alex nods in response. The conversation dwindles from there as the small group focuses on eating. It’s another few minutes before anyone utters a word.

“This is wonderful, Evelyn, thank you for inviting us.” Melissa beams at her friend, who grins back.

“Of course. You two are welcome here any time.” Though it’s only water, Evelyn raises her glass, as if it were filled with wine.

“Melissa. You bring dessert?”

“Always, George, always. I made sugar cookies.” The woman doesn’t make any more to stand, though, since she’s still bust eating.

“And I brought some leeks for you that I found earlier today. I already washed them.” There’s a clattering sound as Lo’s fork drops to his plate. He reaches behind him and to the top of the chair where a different fabric grocery bag is hanging. “Want them now?”

“Such a kind young man. Yes.” He replies with his mouth full but politely swipes a napkin over his lips to catch some escaping soup. He accepts the bag and gives it a long glance inside. “These are some nice ones, boy, thank you.”

“No problem. I know how much you love them.”

George allows a smile to fall upon him. Lo is one of the few people who know how to bring out the kindness that the grumpy old man hides deep within him. The moments are rare, but entirely genuine – it makes it all the more special. The rest of the discussion is dependent on the two women as they recount their gardening plans and remark about how high Pierre’s prices could be – “but it’s worth it to support his business and not Joja’s – as the men simply listen in whilst enjoying the last of their meals. George is the first to leave. He wheels himself across the hallway and stops in front of a large, boxy television set that’s resting in the middle of the living room, directly on the floor. It’s extremely outdated, but George doesn’t want to upgrade. Evelyn and Melissa take to washing the dishes, their voices never halting. This leaves Alex and Lo to themselves.

“Wanna go see Dusty?”

Instantly, Lo lights up. “Yeah. How’s he doing?”

“As lazy as ever.” His chair pushes back with a screech as he stands. He grabs two cookies on his way through the kitchen. Lo is quick to his feet, also grabs a cooking, and trail behind him. “I think he’ll be happy to see you.”

They step out into the chill air of the early January almost-evening. A brown doghouse sits in the middle of a fenced-in, small grass clearing. Lo frowns at the discarded dog food cans tossed here and there. Has Alex been littering? He shakes his head, as per usual, and looks to the fat aging dog who lounges inside the entrance to his tiny home.

“Hiya, Dusty.” He passed by the doghouse earlier but hadn’t seen the dog himself, and was too preoccupied to check, so he was wondering if he was still around.

“Hey, boy.” Alex pulls open the creaky fence gate. Dusty stretches, butt in the air, and slowly steps out of his doggy confinement. He perks up when he notices his visitor but remains calm. Lo lowers himself to the ground, holding his hand out for the dog to sniff, and soon finds that Dusty plops himself onto his lap. Alex, also sitting, scoots closer to better reach him.

“He’s as sweet as I remember.” The biggest smile adorns his face. Now that he thinks about it, he can get a dog of his own now. The farm if much more suitable than a crowded, housemate-filled apartment. Maybe he’ll do that. Maybe he’ll look into getting a dog.

“Yeah. He’s getting up there in years, though.” He shifts one leg flat against the ground and raises his opposite knee, leaning an elbow onto it. His other hand scratches behind Dusty’s ears. “But he’s still hanging in there. He’s lazy as all hell, but stubborn.”

Lo laughs. “Well I’m glad he’s still around.”

A beat.

“So you’re back.”

There’s a nod. “I’m back.”

“What now?”

With a shrug, Lo looks up to meet Alex’s eyes, but the brunet is staring at the dog. He looks back down. “I’m going to take over the farm. Do just what Grandpa did, you know? And Grandma. I’ll carry on their legacy.”

“Is that what you _want_ to do, or are you just here out of obligation?” He mutters his next set of words in a snarky tone. “’Cause you wasted no time in dipping the first time.”

Face falling, he continues giving Dusty most of his attention, intentionally avoiding brushing against Alex’s hand in the process. “At first I thought I was here before I had to be, but…I do actually want to be here. I knew I missed it, but I didn’t realize how much. I missed the people. And I missed you too. You do know that, right?”

He’s met with silence.

A lump forms in Lo’s throat. He can’t stand this behavior. He hates that he was the cause of it. “Are you still mad?”

“I was never _mad_ , Lo.”

He nods. There’s quiet again. Before either of them can speak again, Melissa opens the door. Her hand is gripping tightly onto the doorframe.

“It’s almost my bedtime, Lo. Help me get back home. I need my chair. My legs are tired.”

If Lo’s mind wasn’t swarming with thoughts, he would have noticed how short her sentences are. Is isn’t that she’s upset, because then she’d be yelling, but she’s just…off. She hides it well. Part of Lo is relieved for the break in conversation, but he also wants to ask more. To know how Alex is feeling about the past and present situations. If it’s why he’s being so cold. But that will have to be saved for another time – his grandmother is his first priority. He carefully pushes Dusty away so he can stand.

“Alright. Let’s talk later, Alex.”

“Mm.” The dog has taken residence in his human’s lap now.

Lo doesn’t push for a better response and instead approaches the fatigued figure waiting in the bright doorway. He puts an arm around her and gives her a smile. “Let’s get you home so you can rest.”


	5. author's note 2 - reupload

I've posted a second Note before but deleted it because it was no longer relevant. This one is to inform everyone that I've revised and edited the existing parts of this story. I'm currently working on Chapter 3, finally! The semester is over (I got all As!) and now I have more time to work on personal projects. While rereading what I had previously written, I realized it there were sections that were unnecessarily wordy, and the dialogue felt unrealistic. So those things have been updated as well as something new regarding Elliott in the second chapter.

This should be the last Note before posting the next chapter, I don't want to spam only Notes!

\- KS


	6. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes...my Emily is nonbinary and goes by they/them pronouns!

**chapter three**

Lo spends part of his evening inspecting the farmhouse and making a list of anything that needs to be done in each room. Robin was right – the place _had_ become run-down. It’s clear that his grandparents had stopped using the second floor at some point, as the upper rooms are covered in cobwebs, dead bugs, and untouched layers of dust. He’s sure this lack of use was because the two avoided the staircase as they grew older (it’s the same case for the cellar, but Lo has yet to explore down there). The first floor isn’t as musty, but he noted some places that are in need of fixing. A few kitchen cabinets are broken and one is missing a door entirely, the living room rug is stained where food and drinks have been spilled, and the stairs are sensitive in areas. But these are issues for another day. For now, Lo decides to tidy up the nursery since it’s where he’ll be sleeping (it’s forever been called the nursery, but it’s more like a guest room).

He swipes the dust from the exposed surfaces of the furniture in the room, which causes more than a few sneezes. He then strips the bed of its stiff-with-age sheets and replaces them with a set of thick, red plaid ones. Once complete, he sits on the freshly made bed and takes a breath. Despite his long day, he doesn’t really want to sleep yet. It’s a Friday night, after all, and he never sleeps before midnight on Fridays and it’s currently just past eight o’clock. He enjoys another moment of rest before standing, grabbing a change of clothes, and stepping into the bathroom for a shower. He emerges dressed in a simple but nice outfit: a pair of light-wash jeans, a yellow V-neck, and a pair of brown boots.

He’s going to go get a drink.

✽✽✽✽✽

The Stardrop Saloon is bustling with activity. Lo is enveloped in warmth the moment he steps inside. From first glance, one may assume that the whole town had shown up. To his right he spots Willy and Clint, the blacksmith, at the nearest table. Robin and her husband, Demetrius, are dancing together to slow music playing from the jukebox. Pierre is leaning against the bar with a drink in hand and an empty glass nearby while Shane has a cold one by the fireplace. Lo’s eyes linger for a while on the life-sized bear carving, wondering if anyone has mistaken it for the real thing after a few too many drinks. He cracks a smile, accidentally makes eye contact with Shane, and waves. It’s returned with a glare. He then looks to his left to see Lewis and Marnie laughing over drinks, Pam by the far end of the bar, and Elliott seated at a table with a figure of similar hair color. _Leah?_ He doesn’t want to assume as he had earlier, but considering everything he’s been told so far, who else could it be? The two are emersed in conversation and haven’t noticed him. Still smiling, Lo steps further into the establishment and makes his way to the bar.

“Got anything good, Gus?”

“Always. Today’s special is a blueberry tart.” Gus, the owner of the saloon, places a glass beneath the counter and tosses the rag he used to dry it onto his shoulder. He’s a large man with a kind smile and a handlebar mustache.

“Sounds great. Make it two so I can surprise Grandma with one.” Lo beams. Gus nods and relays these instructions to the blue-haired figure behind him that Lo recognizes as Emily. “Anything else?”

“Something light, doesn’t matter what it is.” He plops onto one of the stools as Gus proceeds to fix his drink. Emily approaches with one tart on a plate and one in a paper bag.

“Hi, hair twin! You look like you’ve had a really good day.” They pass his order to him. Their bright red lipstick stands out against their pale skin and contrasts the brightness of their blue hair. They have the ecstatic personality to match.

“I did.” He takes the treats. Gus slides his drink to him, which Lo accepts with a happy _‘thanks!’_ – Gus seems to appreciate the gratitude. He turns back to Emily. “Did you?”

“If you live each day with a positive mindset, they can all be good ones.” They don’t have the time to elaborate as their attention is pulled away when Shane calls out for another drink. Lo’s glance slips to the grumbly man. His gaze is intentionally ignored this time around. With a shrug, he lifts his own drink to his lips. He’s halfway through his blueberry tart when a hand clasps down onto his shoulder.

“May Laurence Oliver get another drink? On me.”

He watches as Gus nods. Elliott leans his hands against the bar, tilting his head and offering a smile. His hair falls over his shoulder. “Hello again. Would you care to sit with Leah and I?” He motions behind him with his thumb. When Lo follows this invisible trail, he’s greeted with a wave from the woman sitting closest to the wall.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt-”

“Nonsense. It isn’t interrupting if you’re invited.” He waves away the silly notion.

“Right.” He lets out a laugh. After downing the rest of his first drink, he grabs the fresh one that Gus placed before him along with the tarts, and nods to Elliott. “After you.” With a nod of his own, Elliott leads him to the table he had previously been seated at and pulls a chair out for him. A hand is extended before Lo has a chance to place his things down.

“Leah.” Her expression is sweet and soft yet clearly confident and self-assured. And slightly tipsy. Lo sets his drink on the table to accept her handshake.

“Laurence Oliver. You can call me Lo if you’d like, but either is fine.” He then realizes that he had neglected to mention this to Elliott. But based on his lack of reaction, he doesn’t seem to mind. He has a hunch that, with his new friend’s proper way of speaking, he’d prefer to call him Laurence Oliver regardless. He turns back to the conversation. “He/Him pronouns.”

Leah’s face brightens. “She/Her pronouns for me.” Her eyes dart around as she sips her drink. “If you didn’t already guess, Friday is the saloon’s busiest night.”

“I had a feeling,” he chuckles.

“Most of the town shows up.” She pushes her plate away. It looks like she’d had the salad.

“Do the Mullner’s ever join?” He hadn’t seen them when he’d looked around. Doing so once again, he then notices three people on the opposite side of the saloon, two standing around a pool table and one watching from a couch. He recognizes one as Sam and one as Abigail (she always talked about wanting purple hair when she was a kid), but he can’t place the third person. Maybe they’re a friend from out of town.

“I’ve seen Evelyn bring cookies to Gus and sometimes Alex stops by for a drink, but not often and rarely on Fridays. I don’t think I’ve ever seen George, though.” She swirls her drink with her metal straw.

“Are you close to the family?” Elliott leans his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand.

Lo nods. “I spent my summers here growing up. Alex and I have been friends since we were little, and Evelyn and George are like grandparents to me.”

“It must feel nostalgic to return, huh?” Leah gives a wistful sigh.

“It really does. It’s as if…as if nothing has changed, but at the same time, everything _has_ changed. Everyone is older, you two moved in, my…my hair is blue!” He ruffles part of his hair with a laugh. “But it feels like all of Stardew Valley is trapped in some sort of bubble, existing outside of time. It’s…weird. Nostalgic for sure.” The pure look of awe on Elliott’s face makes Lo feel warm. He continues as acts as if he doesn’t notice. “If only that were the case.” He’s smiling, but then the realization of what he had said dawns on him, and a frown quickly forms. Leah reaches over and pats his hand.

“Do you need to talk about it?”

He shakes his head and forces a small chuckle. “No. I’m trying to move on. I try not to think about him too much.” He’s done plenty of crying and would rather avoid waterworks, especially in a public place. Elliott gives him another look, this time sympathetic. He has to turn away.

“Well, if you do ever need to talk about it, we’re here to listen. And if you don’t want to talk, you could try making art. That’s what helps me.” Leah also appears sympathetic, but not as noticeably as Elliott. Of course, Elliott is simply an animated person.

Swiftly changing the subject, Lo asks, “Oh, you’re an artist?”

Luckily, this sparks a long conversation that has nothing to do with his grandfather’s passing. Instead, the three speak about art, writing, and possible plans that Lo has for the farm and house. They’re both adamant about dedication a room to a hobby of his and he explains that he already has a kitchen for baking. They don’t leave until the saloon closes.

✽✽✽✽✽

Even though he was at the saloon until midnight, he hadn’t had enough alcohol to get drunk, which he’s thankful for when he wakes up. As vague as it was, Lo tried to keep Emily’s words of encouragement in mind: to approach each day with positivity. He especially needs the reminder as the silence of the large home overwhelms him. Usually he would have been greeted by the chatter of his grandparents as they made breakfast downstairs, but it isn’t the case this morning. It will never be the case. Not anymore. It was easy to push this fact from his mind yesterday, when he could pretend his grandfather was simply elsewhere, taking care of business for the farm. It was a hard reality to wake up to.

Once he’s sure that he’s suppressed the bulk of his negative emotions, he steps into the hallway and carefully descends the stairs, avoiding the soft spots as best he can. For a brief moment, he thinks he’ll be okay for the day, but then he sees his grandmother sitting alone at the dining table. Donning her favorite purple dress and her grey hair tied atop her head, she flips through a book, looking…sad.

“Everything okay?”

She looks up to meet his eyes. “I’m going through pictures. I’m okay.”

Not fully believing her, Lo pulls one of the chairs closer to her. He sits and looks to the photos displayed on the current scrapbook page. The first is of his parents’ wedding. His father is wearing a simple tux with a yellow tie, while his mother is in a matching yellow dress. His black hair is recently shaved on the sides and curly on top; hers, brunette, is styled halfway up with a long, pale yellow veil fastened to the top. Lo can almost hear their laughter through the bright smiles adorning their faces.

“Awe, look at this one! Your first time milking a goat.” Melissa has flipped to the next set of pictures. Her bony finger lands on a photo of a tiny boy with an oversized straw hat on his head. He’s knelt beside a goat, bucket by his feet. “You were afraid of the cows.”

“I remember.” A chuckle leaves his lips. “I miss the cows. And the goats.” _And Grandpa._ He bites his tongue.

“Don’t rush into getting more until you know you’re ready for them. Start off small with a few chickens. Clean the ponds and fill them with fish. Just make sure that you have time to take care of everything first, okay? Can you promise me that?” She looks up to him, her eyes serious. In this moment, she sounds like Alan. He feels that was her intention – to give the advice that he would be giving if he were here. Lo nods once.

“I promise.”

“That reminds me.” She starts to push herself from her chair, stops, and points to the bookshelf in the living room. “Top shelf, shoe box. There’s a letter for you.”

“From…From, uh…” A lump forms in his throat. There’s no escaping emotions today, huh? “Can I read it later? I don’t…I don’t want-”

“Lo, it’s okay. Read it whenever you’re ready. It’s okay.” She wipes at her eye, reaching over to pull his head onto her shoulder. He sniffs once. This time, she does stand, and kisses the top of his head. “I’ll make us some breakfast.”

“Can I help?”

“That would be nice, yes.”

✽✽✽✽✽

He hadn’t gotten as emotional as he was expecting. He kept busy, away from the farmhouse, saying hello to people around town, collecting things, and fishing. Willy had posted a request for a bream, something about _‘keeping the art of fishing alive’_ , so he had made it his goal for the day to catch one. He was hoping it would keep him busy for a while, but he found himself wandering onto the beach at around two in the afternoon.

“Catch, pretty boy!”

With a yelp, Lo drops the bag containing the bream into the sand, throwing his arms over his head and ducking low. A worn gridball soars over him and crashes into the bushes by Elliott’s cabin. He slowly stands, looking back and then forward to see a snickering brunet approaching him. He seems to be in a better mood than he was yesterday.

“I was _not_ ready,” he huffs. His expression is stern. He is not a fan of having things thrown at him without warning.

Alex scoffs. He digs through the bush and retrieves the ball. “Clearly. Try again.”

“What if I don’t want to try again?” Lo grabs the fish bag, which is a produce bag from Pierre’s. He faces Alex, who’s tossing the ball between his hands. The athlete just raises his bushy eyebrows with a bemused, expectant look on his face. With another huff, Lo gently sets the bag back down and moves several paces back. He holds his hands in front of him. “Fine.”

Alex throws the ball just hard enough to not be considered a toss. Lo misses miserably. Rather, he accidentally smacks it and nearly sends it into the ocean, though thankfully it had came to a stop about a foot away from the water.

“Look at that.” The grin on Alex’s face is playfully mocking. “Years later and you still can’t catch. Let’s see if you can throw.”

Lo puffs out his cheeks. He picks up the ball and dusts the sand from it. Alex claps his hands together once more. At first, he was a bit annoyed, having something lobbed at him and all, but his happy demeanor reminds him of when they were younger. It’s true: Lo is notoriously bad at catching things. But while this is the case, Alex is known for intentionally throwing things badly so he’d miss. Shaking his head with a chuckle, Lo throws the gridball to the best of his lack of ability. The trajectory is off, but Alex still manages to jump up and catch it. He has the widest smile on his face afterwards.

“Heh. You know I’m going to be the first professional gridball player from Stardew Valley, right?”

With a roll of his eyes and a scoff, Lo once again takes his bag, crossing his arms. “You’ve gotten arrogant, huh?”

“You’re just jealous.” He blows air from his nose rather than giving a real laugh. Maybe it stung a bit. “Why are you carrying around a fish?”

He shrugs a shoulder and nods towards the fish hut behind him. “Willy wants one.”

“Ah. Well if you’re taking requests, think you can find me someone who can actually catch?”

Lo tilts his head, hands clasped around the bag in front of him. “Oh, can you not make friends on your own?”

The sass catches him off guard. It takes a moment for him to retort. “I’m too busy for friends. As a matter of fact, gotta go.” He gives a two-finger salute before spinning around and walking off. “See ya around, Lo.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

The interaction leaves him feeling weird. For that short moment, it felt like it had when they were on good terms, but the “bantering” felt forced and more intentional than a joke. Thinking once again to Emily’s advice, he holds his head high and heads for the docks. The smell of freshly caught fish attacks his nose when he opens the door to the fishing hut – and he thought the stench of his singular bream was bad. He stayed to chat for a while with the old mariner. When he does finally leave, he’s once again called for.

“Laurence Oliver! Are you busy?”

Elliott is at the door of his cabin, key out to unlock it. A grin once again appears on Lo’s face. He makes his way closer. “No.”

“Wonderful! Would you care to hang out?”

He stifles a laugh. The phrase “hang out” feels much too casual for Elliott to be saying. But he nods. “Yeah, sure.”

A smile graces Elliott’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is long overdue and not up to my standards...apologies! I tried writing this chapter multiple times, and I rewrote and edited it even more. It's not bad, but I'm fully aware at how slowly it's moving - I hope that having a fresh start with chapter four will help! May go back and edit this one like I did the others.
> 
> Happy Holidays! <3


	7. note!

Back at it again with a note!

I've been busy (school started back!) and also uninspired for this story lately. I've also been high-key obsessed with the Dream SMP and was thinking of writing something regarding it...

Do I have any fellow DSMP fans reading this?? If so, are there any friend/relationships you guys are interested in? Since I'm really into that, I may try writing something! I'd abide by the creators' boundaries ofc <3

-KS


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